"Not gay." I groaned. "What is it with bi-erasure? Seriously? Why are the only options ever straight or gay?"
"Because bisexual is hard to identify by sight," she explained. "You're with the same sex or the opposite, and a man who makes his living in fashion? The odds are that you're gay." She grabbed her drink and took a sip, then pushed it to the side. "So, you're chasing her, aren't you?"
"Violet?" I asked.
Leslie nodded. "That's why you want to go to Texas right after you just got back. I'm going to guess there's some guy?"
"Two," I admitted. "Her long-time crush and mine. One's helping fix the place, and the other just got hired to work there. He'll be living down the hall."
"Which one has you jealous?" she asked.
Yep, I knew this girl wasn't as timid as she pretended. I also decided that I liked her. "Both. Luke is all man, and the kind you can only find in the country. Cy's my ex and while Violet doesn't know it, he's always had a thing for her. For the last decade, I haven't had to worry. She and I are best friends. Sure, she's had a few flings, but she's thrown them aside as fast as she picked them up. This time, it feels different."
Leslie nodded. "Then you go get the girl, Mr. Walker. I'll make sure Risqué is still in one piece when you get back. And while you're at it, consider getting the boy too. Maybe both of them. Polyamory's not that uncommon anymore, and sounds like it might be the solution to your problem. That 'out of the box' enough for you?"
"I like the way you think," I told her. "Not so sure the cowboy's going to be into sharing his girl, though."
"Then don't give him an option," she said. "You and Violet are partners. Not the kind that come and go. You two are a legend in the industry, and it'd be a shame to let that get away. I'll make sure you can do this, sir. I promise."
"Then I'll make sure you get a shot in the fashion industry," I decided. "If you push me, then I'll push you, how's that?"
She thrust her arm over the table. "I'll make sure you don't regret it. I'm not qualified, I don't have the experience - "
"But you have the heart," I finished for her, accepting her hand. "That matters more than all the rest."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Iwoke up at Violet's place Tuesday morning, and then went to sleep there again on Tuesday night, wrapped up in her arms for a second time. Wednesday, I seriously considered turning off my alarm and letting the cows go hungry, but I somehow managed to drag my ass away from her. Soon as I was done, though, I came right back.
I'd just pulled up by the barn and got out of my truck when I heard something. Today, I was supposed to get the round baler working so we could get that hay cut. The part had just come in, and once I put that on, it looked like it should work fine - after a little general maintenance. I turned for the house to tell Violet I was back, only to see her coming out the front door - and that sound kept getting louder.
Heading around the edge of the barn, I looked down the drive to see a bike slowly making its way to the house. Granted, the driver would have to be insane to try anything but slow on that loose gravel, but I'd known a lot of idiots. As Violet sauntered that sweet little ass of hers off the porch, I paused. From the look on her face, she knew this guy. Hoping to keep my hands busy, I went to grab some tools from my truck, but mostly, I just wanted to know who her latest visitor was.
The motorcycle this guy was on was impressive. Its profile was like something that belonged on a racetrack, but it was the color that caught the eye first. Like neon turquoise, it definitely stood out. The shade reminded me of a crayon my sister used to love back when we were kids: turquoise, cyan, or something like that. If it'd been a girl's bike, I would've gone with turquoise, but the man sitting on it was anything but girly.
Wearing loose black jeans, a t-shirt that almost matched the bike, and a helmet that did, this guy was certainly not local. He also didn't look like someone I could just write off. He was built. Not athletic like Ashton, or fit like me, but the scary kind of muscles. The type I would have to be an idiot to assume I could beat into the ground - unfortunately.
When the bike stopped beside Violet's cute little car, she laughed and jogged toward it. The guy wrenched off his helmet and dropped it haphazardly to catch her. I hated him. Trying to push it away, I aimed for the other side of my truck, doing my best to ignore how she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and the way this strange man hugged her tight enough to lift her feet from the ground. Every possessive fiber in my body was demanding that I say something, but I'd learned better the first time.
"You made it!" She sounded breathless.
The bastard set her down, letting his hands slide over the curves of her body in a way that made me want to punch him in the face. "Told ya I would. Didn't know you had company, though. Need me to run him off?"
Like that would happen. This guy was over there acting like this was his girl. Running his hands over her body like that? Well, fuck him. I wasn't about to let some thug chase me away from this woman.
Violet slapped his chest playfully. "Contrary to popular belief, I can do my own running. Cyan, he's been helping out around here."
I recognized the name, but that wasnotwhat I expected her new employee to look like. Knowing that this guy was about to move into the house? Yep, my brain shut right off and my ego turned up a few notches. Hoping to keep from doing something stupid, I focused on gathering my tools. I just had to worry about the hay, which meant fixing the baler, not punching this fucker.
"Things that bad?" Cyan asked, making it sound like he could do something about it.
Wrenching open the tool box in the bed of my truck, I had to clench my jaw to keep from saying anything. The tough guy over there had probably never roughed it a day in his life. He looked like that bulk had been earned in a gym, not on a farm, so he certainly wouldn't understand what it would take to put this place back together. Not that I would say anything. I'd just swoop in to save the day when she needed it. I was going to be her hero, damn it.
"Not good, but I've still got a pool," Violet replied. "Seems Gran let everything else go while she was sick, and it all needs a bit of fixing up."
Cyan pressed his body closer to hers. "You're gonna give the country boys out here a heart attack, sweetie. You in a bikini? That's toxic."
She groaned and leaned back, making a weak attempt to get free. "Yeah, yeah. Now where's your stuff?"
